


Surrogate

by thebasement_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types, The X-Files
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Scully and Mulder come across a criminal resembling a former associate. An investigation into his past leads to some puzzling questions.





	Surrogate

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

The Surrogate by cathy lee

Subject: NEW "The Surrogate" 1/2 SLASH NC17  
Date: Wed, 16 Apr 1997 01:03:04 -0400  
From: lettucehead <>  
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative  
Warning: Loooong intro, made even longer by this warning of a looong intro.  
Summary: Highlander/X-Files crossover. Scully and Mulder come across a criminal resembling a former associate. An investigation into his past leads to some puzzling questions.  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are the property of the big cheeses at 1013 Productions and Rysher Entertainment. This piece is intended solely for the free enjoyment of "Highlander" and "X-Files" fans. Neither infringement of copyrights nor theft of intellectual property is intended. SUING ME = BLOOD FROM A STONE.  
Warning: This piece is rated NC-17 and is "slash ." That means that your favorite television characters are graphically written in lurid homosexual situations. Yummy!! Please no prudes or folks under age 18.  
Please feel free to post this anywhere and everywhere with headers and introduction in place. (I will post it to the news group myself to minimize funky line wrap.)  
Special thanks to my beta reader, Marita, for her tireless help and encouragement.  
Introduction: This is one version of the crossover everyone's been hollering for on the X/Slash and M/K mailing lists for the last month or so. From the "X-Files" I've used Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Alex Krycek. From "Highlander" I've used Duncan Macleod, Amanda, and Corey Raines, a character who has only appeared in only one episode as far as I know, but who is interestingly enough played by the actor Nicholas Lea, the same guy who plays Krycek.  
For those who have never seen "Money No Object," the only episode in which Corey Raines was featured, Corey is an immortal who goes around robbing banks, etc., and giving a sizable portion of his take to the needy. Duncan's girlfriend, Amanda, ran around with him for awhile during the Great Depression in the 1930's. Often, during the robberies, Amanda and Corey were shot dead, and it ended up being their friend Macleod's job to exhume them from the graveyard. Interestingly enough, Corey was never shown with a sword or established to be an immortal who takes heads. (But in my story he *gives* head! ; D ) I thought this was an obvious flaw since Corey, shot dead and in the graveyard, would be very vulnerable to headhunting immortals. Nor did the producers of MNO ever show Corey or Amanda suffering from any physical pain after being shot. I've tried to work around these flaws. Oh, and then there's that pesky problem of all those headless bodies lying around the fair city of Seacover (literally disguised in my story with the cryptic fictional name "Seattle").  
At the end of MNO, Amanda decides to leave Duncan and go and live with Corey Raines because he "has fun being an immortal." Anyway, there was a strong indication that Raines would be back in a future episode, if only for the narrative device of bringing Amanda back into the picture. (We Nick lovers hope!) 

* * *

"The Surrogate"  
a "Highlander" - "X-Files" crossover, slash, NC-17.  
by cathy lee

"Its not him Mulder."

"Are you sure?" Agent Fox Mulder stopped in front of his partner, Dana Scully, in the hallway of Denver police department's 4th Precinct.

"Yes I'm sure. I've talked to him for over an hour now. He doesn't know anything about the FBI. He's just a common thief who was picked up for armed robbery at a check cashing joint right at the end of the Sixth Avenue Mall. Apparently he's done this kind of thing before. But until today, he's never shown up in the FBI's random reviews of regional cases."

"I need to talk to him."

"Sure go ahead. But really Mulder, it's a waste of time. The fingerprints aren't even close. They've been holding up his bail for the last day and a half to wait for us to question him, but there's really no justification for it."

When Mulder walked into the interrogation room and glanced at the suspect, he had to brace himself against the doorway. He looked every bit like the man he had been pursuing for over two years. It *had* to be Alex Krycek, but, according to Scully, it wasn't, just a smalltime armed robber who called himself Corey Raines. But the resemblance was uncanny. The haircut, the hand movements ...everything. Raines, however, seemed more relaxed in police custody than he'd ever seen Krycek in all his days of freedom. He casually leaned back in the chair, smiling and laughing, drumming his fingertips on the tabletop with mock impatience.

He entered the room and addressed the suspect. "Good afternoon, I'm Agent Mulder with he FBI. I'd like to speak with you for a few minutes."

"Sure, go ahead. I've got all the time in the world." Even his voice was the same as Krycek's. With a sweeping hand motion Raines gestured to the agent to enter and have a seat. "I hate to be rude, but I *am* planning on leaving as soon as my friends get here to post bail."

"Your friends may take awhile. Bail's been set at fifty thousand dollars." He took a seat at the interrogation table opposite the suspect.

Raines laughed. "Oh, you don't know my friends, they are very resourceful." He sat up, crossed his hands on the tabletop, and winked at Mulder. "I know why you're talking to me, though. The FBI doesn't usually get involved with smalltime armed robbery. I resemble somebody else, don't I?"

"Yes, you bear an uncanny resemblance to a man wanted by the FBI."

"Well, I'm sure your partner has already explained to you ... its not me. I'm Corey Raines."

Mulder, who had begun removing a file from his briefcase, suddenly stopped. There really wasn't anything else to say. The fingerprints hadn't matched up. Hell, Raines and Krycek didn't even have the same blood type. But everything else --his size, his face, the hair color, the voice, even his mannerisms and personality-- were Krycek to a tee. Never in his life had he seen anyone resemble another human being so closely. But Raines displayed a disconcerting casualness attitude about being arrested, as if he regarded the whole thing as a big joke.

Raines gingerly placed his fingertips on Krycek's arrest warrant which Mulder had placed on the table. He slowly dragged it across the tabletop while smiling with a mock deviousness. He picked up to examine the photograph of Mulder's former partner, taken during his first year at the FBI. "Alex Krycek ... hummm, you know, I'd almost think this *was* a picture of me. But look at his fingers, they're all wrong. Mine are at least a centimeter longer."

"And stickier, I hear." Mulder just as calmly pulled the report from the thief's fingers and replaced it in the file folder. "Well, Mr. Raines, sorry to waste your time."

"Sorry to waste yours, Agent ..."

"Mulder." The FBI agent arose and buckled his briefcase.

Raines gave him the brightest, most disarming smile that he'd ever seen. "Fox Mulder, isn't it?" He unselfconsciously ran his tongue over his lips, savoring the name.

The FBI agent nodded with a surprising embarrassment, turned sharply, and left the room. He momentarily stopped himself outside the doorway, privately humiliated by the affect Raines' good looks and freewheeling personality was having on him. Obviously Raines thought he could charm the pants off anyone. Hell, the man had been practically flirting with him.

About an hour later, on his way out of the police station, he overheard a man and woman telling the police clerk they were there to bail out Raines. A tall man with a Scottish accent, his long dark hair tied behind his back in a ponytail, and a rather glamorous short haired woman in a *very* tight dress, badgered the clerk with an inappropriate impatience making them even more exceptionally noticeable. Exactly what the hell were these people about, Mulder thought? With friends like this, Raines obviously wasn't the typical smalltime thief.

***************************************

About a month later, Mulder uncharacteristically arrived late to the basement office. He was greeted by an unusually upbeat Dana Scully, who silently placed several sheets of paper on his desk. One was a faxed photo of a man on a stainless steel table with his eyes wide open. A bullet hole marred the very center of his forehead. The man was Alex Krycek.

He examined the photo closely. "He's dead Scully. When did it happen, where and how?" He sat down heavily in his desk chair, privately embarrassed by his sudden grief over the death of this killer. He glanced up at his partner who was bounding around like she'd just won the lottery. She had the right, he supposed.

"Nineteen seventy-six... oh no no, I'm sorry... seventy-five. This one is from seventy-six." Another gory photo was placed on his desk, this one showing the same man with an eye shot out.

"Scully, it couldn't be. Krycek would have been smoking pot and playing baseball at a junior high school in Buffalo New York, not lying dead on a slab in the morgue."

"This isn't Krycek, Mulder. The man in the first photo called himself Corey Raines. Remember the man we met in Denver last month?" Mulder nodded. He was relieved, yet intrigued. "This man was shot by a sharpshooter during a bank robbery in Toronto in May of nineteen seventy-six," she explained, pointing to the second photograph. He leaned in to examine the photos more closely while her finger jabbed into the dead man's head to drive home her point. "The other photo is of *a* Corey Raines shot in Sarasota Florida a year earlier. I think we've stumbled across something stranger than we've seen in a long time. Corey Raines, the thief we interviewed last week in Denver, the man who looked and sounded exactly like Alex Krycek, his name, as well as the names of these other dead men, are probably pseudonymous. 'Corey Raines' was in fact a legendary thief who ran amok through 18th century Pennsylvania and Maryland."

"Actually Scully, I've done a little research myself, and 'Corey Raines' is a traditional name adopted by thieves going all the way back to 17th century England. There've been scores of different thieves who called themselves 'Corey Raines.' I'm only now starting to gain a greater respect for the sense of tradition prevalent in that venerable profession," Mulder said wryly. "But these resemblances are more than uncanny."

"Well, there's more Mulder. I know you've heard stories about people getting up and walking out of the morgue before."

"One of my favorite urban folk tales."

"Well 'Corey Raines,' whoever he is or they are, is famous for that, having verifiably walked out of the morgue four times in the last twenty-two years. The man is an X-file all by himself. In 1962 he walked out of the Cook County morgue. It was a locally famous case back then. The newspapers reported it widely."

"The man we met probably wasn't even born in 1962."

"But look at his picture from the Chicago Tribune, Mulder. It's Corey Raines all right, and he does look exactly like Krycek. I'm having coroner's photos faxed here as soon as they locate the files. They actually have photos of the body rising off the examination table."

Mulder laughed, "Maybe they're alien clones." He hesitated momentarily, biting his lip while collecting his thoughts. "Scully, who posted bail for Raines?"

"A man named Duncan Macleod of Seattle Washington. I called the Seattle police department to see if they know anything about him or Raines. He's never been arrested, but Detective Michael Freeman wants to talk to us about him. He asked that we call him this evening at seven."

"My god Scully, good work! You've outdone even me in tracking down weirdness. What ever got you started researching this in the first place?"

"Well, I was doing some research so I could finish up the Leonard Betts report and I came across his name."

"In what context, Scully?"

"Reports of bodies rising from the dead, amputations regenerating."

"We need to find out where Raines is now."

"He's already jumped bail, Mulder. He was supposed to report for arraignment the Tuesday after his arrest, but he never showed."

"Maybe we should go talk to Duncan Macleod."

"I've already talked to the travel office about flying out to Seattle. Our flight leaves in the morning at nine-twenty." She pulled a set of airplane tickets out of her briefcase and waved them in Mulder's face.

***************************************

Twenty-two hours later they were on a plane headed west. Scully and Mulder sat together quietly discussing the case. "Mulder, I talked to Detective Freeman in Seattle last night."

"And?"

"It gets weirder and weirder. You remember those beheadings in the Seattle area?"

"Yes, there were about thirty-eight of them. Most of the victims were found with blade weapons --swords and the like-- with their own fingerprints all over them. They thought it might be some type of gang warfare, but there was no connection between any of the victims."

"Except that they all tended to be wealthy Europeans who lived at least part-time in Paris. There have been over one hundred mysterious beheadings in Paris and the Isle de France area in the last ten years. As it turns out, Macleod knew or was seen with almost every one of the Seattle victims shortly before they died. Furthermore, he's an expert at sword play, with a large collection of antique swords. He was known to have engaged in sword fighting, not fencing, but *sword fighting*, with some of the victims."

"I remember reading about the murders. Frank Black of the Millennium group wrote a long report on it. He feels the beheadings were the end result of a fight to the death from some kind of blade challenge. He thought all the victims may have belonged to the same elite cult, but that only one person was responsible for most of the decapitations."

"An elite cult that nobody's been able to penetrate. I read over Corey Raines' arrest report from last month in Denver. One of his personal effects was an antique sword. If it does in fact exist, Macleod and Raines are in all probability part of the cult Black wrote about."

"Scully, that's really creepy. I don't know if I want to go anywhere near these guys."

"Don't worry Mulder. You're not a wealthy European. Besides, Detective Freedman assured me that Macleod has actually assisted the Seattle police in several investigations in the last five years. Macleod may suspect that the Seattle PD is on to him, but they've never been able to pin anything on him. He keeps his nose clean as far as the cops are concerned. I suggest we get to Raines and try to get him to testify against Macleod."

"But Scully, Macleod's suspicious behavior doesn't even begin to explain Raines' ability to walk away from a stainless steel table at the morgue where an autopsy is about to be performed on him."

"No, it doesn't. I haven't figured that one out yet, but I'm sure there's a rational explanation. We just don't see it yet."

After they arrived in Seattle, they checked into their hotel and were easily able to locate Macleod's address. They walked up three floors to a warehouse loft converted into an apartment. The tall and handsome Scotsman showed them in, making no effort to suppress the look of amused irritation on his face.

'Damn, nice ass,' Scully thought to herself, 'but why does he have to wear those horrible baggy pants?'

The agents flashed their badges. "Hello Mr. Macleod, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI and this is my partner Special Agent Fox Mulder. We'd like to ask you a few questions concerning Corey Raines, the man you posted bail for in Denver last month."

Macleod laughed aloud and signaled for his guests to take seats in the living room area of the apartment. "I understand he jumped. I guess that means I'm out fifty grand." He laughed again and shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Actually, I'll be happy to tell you *exactly* where Corey is right now. He's just outside Seattle. I'll write the address down where he's hiding. I only ask one teensy favor in return. Just tell my friend Amanda I'd like to speak to her." He paused. "And if I may ask, why is the FBI so interested in Raines?"

"He jumped bail and traveled out of state. Furthermore, over sixteen thousand dollars worth of checks issued by the Treasury Department were stolen by Raines and have yet to be recovered," Scully replied. Such a smoothly extemporized lie to divert suspicion. Mulder glanced over at his partner in silent admiration.

Mulder suspected a setup immediately. Why else would Macleod so willingly give up his 'friend?' But who the hell Macleod was setting up, he couldn't tell, Raines or the FBI? Duncan Macleod didn't seem like a multiple murderer. He seemed like an friendly, affable person who cared deeply about other people. Freedman had said Macleod taught college history and martial arts. He was considered an expert on 17th and 18th century furniture and artifacts, and spoke at least six languages. What a waste of talent to be tied up with some type of death cult.

Later that afternoon they arrested their suspect at a luxurious cabin in the woods, about an hour outside of the city. When Raines saw who was there to apprehend him, he put up absolutely no resistance. The same slender woman with the short hair they'd seen in Denver was with him in the kitchen, fixing margaritas in a blender. As they led him away, she started cursing aloud, stomping and throwing plates and glasses against the wall. "Damn you Macleod, you're going to pay for this!" she yelled repeatedly.

"I guess we don't have to bother telling Amanda to get in touch with Macleod," Mulder whispered to his partner as they pushed Raines into the back-seat.

Raines regarded his companion's behavior and his arrest as one big joke. "Amanda, I'll see you later. If I'm not back in a week sell the cabin... no, burn it to the ground," he laughed. "These are the Feds, so I might be locked up in the big house this time."

As they pushed the handcuffed suspect into the agency car, Scully noticed a hitherto out-of-sight sword, all too apparently fastened to the inside of his jacket.

Scully shook her head with disbelief. "My god, how in the hell did we miss that? We frisked you twice! Can't you carry a gun like a normal criminal, Raines?" Scully proceeded to disarm him, holding the weapon at arms length with a look of obvious repulsion.

"I find cold, *sharp* steel to be a lot more reassuring," he answered. Scully locked the weapon in the truck of the car and went around to the passenger side.

"Mulder, I have to meet with detective Freeman again in less that an hour, so I won't be able to go with you to drop Raines at the federal holding facility. I'll meet you back at the hotel at five."

"Sounds good Scully."

After completing the drive back into the city, Mulder dropped his partner off at the police station and then silently continued on, passing the jail.

Corey smiled mischievously. "Well, you missed the lockup. So, where are we going?"

"For starters, back to my hotel. I need some answers from you, Raines."

"Don't tell me you still think I'm Adam Kycert?"

"No, I don't think you're Alex Krycek, but you jumped bail in Denver. When we investigated, we found some very puzzling things in your past."

This seemed to throw Raines off a bit. "You probably found out some very puzzling things about my *father's* past, Agent Mulder. My father, also named Corey Raines, was killed during an armed robbery in Florida. I know that your partner dug up some photographs taken of him in the morgue." Raines fell silent for a moment , as if waiting for a response from Mulder. "I'm not proud of my family, Agent Mulder, but I don't apologize for having followed in dad's footsteps"

Did this man realize who he was dealing with? *Most* people tended to ignore the illogical, and focus only on the pieces they could fit into explanations conforming to their beliefs and past experiences. To the continuing frustration of his coworkers, Mulder had taught himself to do precisely the opposite. This often led him to doubt his very sanity, but hell, he solved a lot of cases that way.

***************************************

After arriving, Mulder retrieved the scimitar from the trunk at Raines' continual insistence. He led the handcuffed suspect into his hotel room and pushed him onto the bed. Raines never took his eyes away from the weapon the entire time the FBI agent held it and leaned it up against the wall.

"Aren't you afraid of cutting yourself with that thing? It's sharp as hell."

"I usually keep it in a scabbard, but I was in a hurry when you pulled me out of the cabin." Raines reclined against the headboard with an inappropriate informality. "So what is it you want from me, Mulder?" He raked his eyes over the agent with what Mulder hoped was only mock lechery. "Are you still looking for that man, the one I supposedly look like?"

"I'll never stop looking for him, Raines. "I guess you could call it a hobby."

"Most guys mess with old cars or follow baseball," Raines smirked. "What exactly is your interest in him, Mulder? You've got your own job to do, you investigate something called the 'X files,' right?"

"Yeah, that's right, you've heard of it?" Mulder asked suspiciously.

"I looked into it after we met. You check out reports of people that say they've been abducted by UFO's?"

Mulder stared distractedly at Raines' wrists as he unsuccessfully wiggled them around in the handcuffs. "UFO abductions are only part of what I do. Agent Scully and I investigate *any* reports of the paranormal when they are reported in relation to the commission of a federal crime." He stared coldly at Raines. Seemingly the man embodied everything he'd ever looked for in any of his most remarkable cases.

Raines sensed that the discussion was heading towards a battery of awkward questions he would rather avoid. He looked away uncomfortably, trying not to be too obvious in his effort to redirect the conversation. "So, tell me about the man I look like, Alex Krycert. What did he do, just so I know what might get pinned on me sometime?"

"He's wanted for murder and espionage. He'd be on the 'ten most wanted' list if we could tolerate the publicity of his crimes without jeopardizing our chances of catching him. Pretty heavy stuff. I'm sure you understand my interest in apprehending him."

"But that's not all, is it?"

Despite himself, Mulder found himself relaxing in the company of this easygoing, exuberant and beautiful man. " Well, I *do* feel personally betrayed. He was my partner when he worked for the FBI. He really pulled the rug out from under me." Mulder took off his suit jacket and unfastened his gun holster.

"I saw the way you looked at me when you thought I was him. You two were lovers, weren't you?"

Mulder's body stiffened. "You don't know what the hell are you talking about" He was taken aback with shock at Raines' suggestion.

"I've been around for a while, I've seen a lot. I think I know exactly what I'm talking about." For several moments there was a long uncomfortable silence between the two men. Finally Raines spoke again. "I might be able to help you find your man."

Mulder looked away, embarrassed. "How?" Corey watched as the FBI agent leaned back against the hotel desk as if he might lose his balance.

"A friend of a friend has access to a very large database. Information about my whereabouts is constantly updated. There's a chance that Krycert was logged in accidentally as me."

"What's your price?" Why did there have to be a "price?" He couldn't believe he'd said that. What in the hell was he hoping to hear?

"Well ... I'd ask you to let me go, but that really doesn't matter. You can turn me over to the federal marshal and send me back to Colorado if you like. Letting me go would be nice, but that's not what I want."

"What *do* you want, Raines?"

"Whatever *you're* willing to pay. What do you want to pay, Mulder? More specifically, just what do you want?"

The agent leaned back against the desk and regarded the man sitting handcuffed on the bed. What he wanted from Raines was answers. He wanted to know about Duncan Macleod and the beheadings. He wanted to know about Raines' unusual habit of rising off morgue tables. His father might well have been killed in a shoot-out, but Mulder doubted it. Even if he had, that still left an awful lot unexplained. So much was unexplained, in fact, that Mulder didn't even know where to begin the questioning. He found himself, for the first time in a long time, confused by the oddity of the entire situation. He stared at the beautiful man in front of him, biding his time by idly tracing patterns over the bedspread with his handcuffed fingers. His presence here only served as a painful reminder of his own loss. What he really wanted was for Raines to be Krycek. He sighed and regarded his prisoner with a frustration so obvious that Raines was immediately able to read his very thoughts and smiled knowingly.

"You want your lover back, don't you?"

Mulder's jaw dropped open in shock at Raines' impertinence. He responded bitterly. "I *never* said Krycek was my lover."

Raines laughed aloud. Sometimes he surprised even himself with his marvelous acumen. It was a trait he had honed over the centuries and it hadn't come from being an immortal, it came from being a thief. He flashed his most seductive smile and weakly held up his wrists for Mulder's examination. "Can't get to the database until you unlock my wrists."

What Raines had just said was totally illogical, but nevertheless Mulder found himself walking over to the bed and sitting next to the handcuffed man. He hesitated. If he uncuffed Raines he could easily escape. Obviously bullets weren't a serious deterrent to someone who had reportedly been shot dead on more than one occasion. But something in Raines' eyes told him that Raines wasn't going anywhere. He gently removed the handcuffs and tossed them across the room onto his suit jacket. Immediately Raines cupped Mulder's face in his palms and pulled it towards his own. He delivered a series of gentle kisses there, on the lips, on the cheeks and eyes. "This is what you really want from Krycek, isn't it?"

Mulder didn't answer. He leaned away from Raines. He felt his throat choking up with tears of longing. Where in the hell *was* Krycek? Over and over he had thought back to that last day at the gulag. Krycek was standing there, joking with the guards, smoking a cigarette. Had Mulder imagined it, or had Krycek had almost a look of relief on his face when he'd been shoved down into the back of that truck?

Raines was stroking his cheek, his face bespoke unqualified gentleness and understanding. Mulder drank in the sight of him. He was so exactly like Krycek. Mulder raised his hand to the back of the man's neck and drew him forward. The second kiss was more urgent. The heat and desire they found in each other's mouths ignited them further.

"This is what *I* want Mulder ... you," he whispered hastily into Mulder's ear while sucking on the lobe and then plunging his tongue inward. "I'm not in the habit of seducing the Peelers, but I'll make an exception in your case."

Mulder smiled. Raines' use of archaic nineteenth-century English slang was oddly charming. He supposed that such an odd affectation went hand in hand with the traditional pseudonym and the antique sword. Warm and understanding hands ran up and down his back before pulling his shirt out of his waistband. Corey's mouth was sweet and yielding. He shut his eyes tightly and leaned into it, allowing the physical sensations to overwhelm him.

Corey toed off his shoes while simultaneously rubbing Mulder's cock through his jeans. "Fox, let's make love."

"I thought we already were." He assertively pressed his body over his prisoner's. Suddenly, as if he'd flipped a switch inside the other man's head, the hunger hidden beneath Raines' submission switched into high gear. The mouth that had been gentle and supple was suddenly consuming, demanding. Adroit hands pulled away clothing with a startling ferocity. Mulder's prisoner flipped him over onto his back and stripped him, interrupted haphazardly only by his own disrobing.

"God I want you," Corey rasped between kisses. Within a few short minutes they were both naked, lying side by side on top of the quilt. Fox's penis rubbed over Corey's stomach leaving slimy traces of pre-ejaculate. Corey pressed his fevered cock inside the warm cleft between Mulder's thighs, slowly thrusting himself back and forth in the heat. Mulder teased Corey's nipples with his fingertips until they swelled into hard nubs. Then he lowered his tongue over them, tasting the salty sharpness of sweat, and a somewhat sweet taste like berries.

Corey groaned and kneaded Mulder's buttocks. He grabbed the thick cock, rubbing it over his stomach, and began pumping it in a tight up and down movement. "God Fox, I want to suck this."

The FBI agent smiled. "Be my guest," he answered. He lay back down on the bed and opened his legs, giving the thief complete access to his ass and genitals. Raines positioned himself against Mulder's hip and engulfed the hard flesh in one ravenous swallow.

Mulder fell back hard onto the mattress, completely undone by the skilled and enthusiastic technique. He regarded the familiar head of brown hair bobbing up and down over his cock. "Oh god..." he cried aloud. 'Oh Alex,' he thought. With his tongue, Corey lapped and sucked the thick head, running his lips over the erect, silky flesh of the shaft and the pink springy tip. He brought his fingers up underneath Mulder's asscheeks, tickling, probing, groping the yielding firmness. Mulder impatiently pressed the head of soft brown hair over himself. Corey eagerly complied and took the cock all the way down his throat. He moaned, his larynx muscles straining over the thickness of the organ. As the very base passed his lips, he began an oral fucking motion with the cock so deep within him that he was soon twitching and thrashing with excitement and discomfort. His spare hand reached down to his own organ and began a hard and slow rubbing motion in the same rhythm as his movement over Mulder.

Suddenly hands were lightly pushing Corey's head away. The hips beneath him were twisting out from under and away from his servicing mouth. Mulder sounded drunk from pleasure.

"No, no please stop, I don't want to cum yet ... I wanna fuck you." Corey pulled his head up from the cock with one long ravenous full-lipped suck, causing Fox to twitch once again ... so, so close to the edge. He laid his body next to the beautiful, sinewy form stretched out on the bed and they joined in a long euphoric kiss. He let him lie still, untouched for a moment, allowing the FBI agent come down a bit and catch his breath. Eventually Mulder let out a sigh suffused with disbelief at his fortune and arose to rummage through his suitcase. His erect shaft stuck out like a flagpole, bobbing from side-to-side with each movement of his hips. Fox returned to the bed with the necessary items, a tube of lubricant and a small box of condoms.

Corey laughed. He really hated those things, but it was well nigh impossible to convince a mortal lover that there was absolutely no reason for them. Even the most virulent viruses burned out of immortals' bodies in a matter of hours. He placed his palm gently over Mulder's hand as he wrestled the condom from the package.

"It's all right Mulder, you don't need to wear any protection. I can guarantee you that I'm absolutely free of disease."

Mulder snorted with disbelief. "Please don't be offended if I don't take your word for it." He pressed Corey down onto his back and gingerly pushed his legs apart with his knees, while he unrolled the condom over himself.

Corey sighed. 'They always say that,' he thought.

Mulder spread the lubricant over his cock and his prisoner's opening, then pulled the muscular legs up over his shoulders. He positioned his engorged erection over the tight hole and pressed downward carefully.

Corey let out a deep sigh from the pressure of the entry. It'd been so long since he had let himself be taken in this manner. He lurched forward, urging the body cautiously poised above him to go faster. Impatiently he grasped Mulder's hips and pulled him forward. "Oh ... Fox! Fill me up, yeah. Ah, fuck yeah."

Mulder continued to press inward. Sweat dripped from his forehead and landed on the thief's chest. With one final thrust, he pressed himself all the way inside. Simultaneously he ran his hands roughly over Corey's chest, grasping his fingers through the short hair and bringing his face downwards for a rapacious kiss. He rested momentarily from the intensity of his entry before his hips began bucking in and out of the man trapped beneath him.

It was too intense. It was better than any quickening from an immortal he'd beheaded, better than any death he'd ever experienced himself. The pain of Mulder's thrusts, the fullness and the violation of his body, the throbbing need which they both shared, all combined into a kind of pleasure he'd rarely experienced in almost 500 years. This... this was the epitome of being alive, the act of joining sexually. It was the very reason he went to such great lengths to avoid getting his head sliced off. Mulder's thrusts sped up again, becoming a rhythm of abandon.

Mulder continued to dispense tender, nibbling kisses as he came, exploding into the taut opening with enough force to give the illusion of propelling himself outwards. He buried his cock deeply inside Corey and depleted himself, the milky cum filling and messing the inside of the condom. He pressed his chest tightly against Corey and shut his eyes as his orgasm subsided. The tenderness and longing evident in Mulder's embrace made Corey's eyes fly open with understanding. He stroked the agent's back with sympathy.

Eventually, Mulder stilled. Corey let the weight of his legs collapse, and they fell along Mulder's sides at an angle which began pushing him outwards. Mulder pulled out all the way, tied the condom closed, and laid down beside his prisoner. His attention was drawn back to Corey's large erection, flushed and seeping, pressing uncomfortably against his belly.

Without speaking, the immortal prompted Mulder to turn over by pressing his palm under the FBI agent's shoulder. Mulder rolled over, ready to surrender himself to whatever his prisoner's pleasure would be. He was covered by the muscular body. Fingers probed and pressed into him, this time generously anointing him with the lubricant. So he was going to get fucked. Fucked by a man who looked, sounded, and seemed exactly like Alex Krycek. Emotion choked his throat momentarily and before he knew it an engorged cock was pressing against him, then into him, bearing down. He heard the man on top of him gasp and then press harder. Mulder was so well-lubed and relaxed from his orgasm, that the entry of his prisoner was accomplished with ease and minimal discomfort. Corey began a slow up and down movement working the rest of his length inside, the speed and vigor increasing with each new thrust. He draped his sweaty chest over Mulder's back and clutched his arms around the sculpted torso.

Corey's rocklike shaft thrust into the narrow orifice, stretching his lover open. He pulled the agent's hips upwards, and closely hunched over his body without ever interrupting the tempo of his own pelvis. Ah... pleasure such as this had been too rare during his lifetime. He had never even been seduced by a man until the late eighteenth century. That was when he'd had to hide from a particularly vicious headhunting immortal and the sans culottes with their guillotine. A young priest had hidden him for months in the church, and he had asked for so little in return ....

Corey felt himself drawing nearer. A tingling heat spread throughout his limbs, emanating from his groin. He concentrated on slowing it down, savoring that loveliest moment just before the delirious rapture of orgasm. He reached around Mulder's waist and grabbed the once again rigid cock. He pumped it a few times with his hands before he no longer had control over his fingers. His release hit him broadside, setting his entire body afire with ecstasy and felt the insides of his lover becoming sodden with his cum. He reached around again to Mulder's cock, this time his very touch set off Mulder's second orgasm. Corey's fingers became slick as his fist stroked Mulder's pulsing cock. He brought the stickiness up to his mouth to taste it, a musky sweetness unlike anything else in the world.

Mulder collapsed flat on his stomach with Corey still buried inside him. The thief's hands lazily massaged his arms and shoulders. Kisses, full of tenderness and gratitude, were dispensed abundantly over Mulder's back, shoulders, hairline, cheeks and lips. Finally both bodies ceased movement and they lay together, wide awake, for several minutes, resting in sweet exhaustion.

Raines considered the role he had played as a surrogate. Something wasn't quite what it seemed about this whole situation. Maybe this man had never actually made love to Alex Krycek. Or maybe they'd only made love once or twice. Mulder was a natural and a sweet lover, but apparently he wasn't all that experienced with men. Corey ran his fingertips over the entire length of Mulder's body and began shifting away.

When Raines pulled out it occurred to Mulder that he hadn't worn a condom. It pissed him off, but he guessed he'd have to live with it. His sudden flash of anger helped to bring the current situation and their relationship back into proper focus. After all, Corey Raines was a prisoner in his custody. And he was a federal agent making an arrest.

The prisoner's explanation about the condom was less than heartening. "Mulder, I'm sorry, I was so anxious to get into you I forgot. But I'm totally free of diseases. I'll get an AIDS test as soon as I go into custody ... you can check it out. They'll test me for everything, you'll see."

"Get dressed."

Raines picked his clothes up off the floor and wordlessly walked into the bathroom.

With his prisoner out of sight, Mulder glanced over at the gleaming scimitar leaning in the corner and his gun holster casually looped over the back of the chair. He couldn't believe he'd unlocked a suspect with weapons lying all about the room. He glanced at his own reflection in the mirror over the desk. He face was flushed, his hair a mess. He ran his hands roughly over his face, a gesture of disbelief and ignominy. "Why are you such a fucking slut, Fox?" he muttered aloud before reaching for his discarded clothing.

When Corey emerged a few minutes later, Mulder was already dressed. He pressed the cuffs around Raines again. "I can't let you have the sword back. It'll be held for you while you're in custody."

"I don't think you know exactly what kind of danger I'm in. I need to have that sword by my side at all times."

"Oh, I don't think you're in any kind of danger, not a man who's been shot dead on innumerable occasions and walked away every time. Now I need for you to tell me how and why."

"But that sword is my only protection."

"What? Is it Excalibur or something?"

"It's an ordinary sword, but I've had it for a long time, years in fact. I know *exactly* how to use it."

Mulder looked at Corey with a subdued horror. How could he have forgotten even for a minute their suspicions regarding this man? But he had agreed with his partner not to discuss those. Not until they were able to gather more evidence against Macleod. The plan was to offer Raines immunity for his testimony against the Scotsman. It was so confusing, more convoluted than any X-file that he'd ever worked on in the past. And what he'd just done hadn't help matters. For several minutes he stared silently at the man he'd just let fuck him. There were so many things he had to know from this man. The questions remained unspoken but weighed heavily in the air between them. Raines shifted his eyes away from Mulder with unease.

"Fox, its so simple, can't you see the answer? It's right in front of your face."

"No, no, I don't see the answer."

"You asked me my price, and now I'm telling you. Don't ask me any questions or I'll never help you find your lover."

"Ex-partner."

"Whatever. I'll never help you find Alex Krycek." He gave Mulder a look that conveyed finality and Mulder dared not pursue it further. He would continue the investigation of the beheadings and Duncan Macleod, but he would leave Raines alone ... for now. Perhaps after Raines helped him with that database, he would have the opportunity for further bartering.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door. "Your partner?" Corey asked, knowing full well the answer.

"No, just the deputy marshals who are going to take you into custody," he answered, glancing at his watch. "They're twenty-five minutes early. Good thing we have our clothes back on."

"Good thing."

***************************************

With the back of his thigh spurting blood, Raines staggered down the street handcuffed and pursued by two deputies. A bullet ripped into his side, burning through his liver, before blowing out his front and taking a sizable portion of his small intestine with it. Exploding shells, damn! The searing pain was almost too much to bear. Another bullet blasted through a vertebrae in the back of his neck, ricocheting around in his medulla before lodging inside his corpus callosum and then bursting, tearing his neck and jaw wide open. This meant he would temporarily lose muscle control *and* the ability to breathe. He hated it when that happened. He collapsed head first onto the sidewalk. He could barely hear anymore, but there was the screech of familiar brakes and the next thing he knew he was looking straight up a leopard-spotted spandex miniskirt at a tiny pair of pink thong underwear and their luscious contents.

"Amanda!" he mouthed her name but no sound came out. His vocal chords were shot, literally. Only a large blood bubble gurgled forth from the gaping wound in his throat.

"Corey, my god! Your head's already half off from that last shell." She swiftly grabbed him under the arms and dragged him into the convertible.

"Ma'am, step away from the prisoner." The deputy marshal was standing a mere five feet away, aiming a rifle right between her eyes.

"Don't shoot, I just got my hair done."

The deputy obeyed, flabbergasted by the audacity of this lovely miniskirted fool who had both the strength and desire to drag a blood-drenched dead man off the sidewalk. Amanda jumped into the car and stepped hard on the gas pedal before the dumbfounded lawman could even grasp what was going on. He shook himself out of his stupor before aiming his rifle at the retreating car and squeezing off another five rounds. But the car was gone, he couldn't have even hit the tires. But at least he knew he'd killed Raines. No way he could have survived that last shot to the neck. And judging by the guts on the sidewalk, he couldn't have survived the first rounds either. Raines must have been dusting on PCP to have made it the last hundred feet. And "Miss Thing" was going to have a hell of a time cleaning her upholstery.

He ran back to his car , where his partner was on the radio calling for backup. He'd radio in the license plate on the convertible and have that woman arrested for interfering with a the transportation of a federal prisoner. Then he'd have the medical examiner retrieve the corpse and take it to the morgue. All in all, a job well done.

***************************************

Two weeks later, Mulder received an anonymous e-mail with an attachment from a database. "Watcher's Chronicles entry RI28876, subject: Corey Raines." The entry contained a blurry picture of Alex Krycek wearing a heavy overcoat and talking with another man in front of a nondescript brick building. The text that followed explained that despite reports to the contrary, Corey Raines was living in Moscow with a Russian woman named Anna Gurrinov and working for the Russian Government in some unknown capacity. He was going by the name Alex Krycek and had, at least for the time being, given up his signature armed robbery. The report also explained that Raines had gone to the extreme length of faking the amputation of his left arm. His address and the date he was first spotted followed the body of the entry.

Mulder leaned back in his swiveling desk chair and looked at the JPEG on his computer screen. He ran his fingertips affectionately over the tiny figure and unconsciously let out his breath in one long sympathetic sigh.

The end.


End file.
